


A Paris

by AAluminium



Category: Original - Fandom, cities - Fandom, impressions - Fandom, memories - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 04:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16078100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAluminium/pseuds/AAluminium
Summary: It is full of surprises: this city never hides its drawbacks as its flaws are as significant as its asserts.





	A Paris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cosmina](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Cosmina).



Paris is watching. 

When you cross rue de Bagnolet, go ahead to the Boulevard de Charonne and take a turn to rue de Terre Neuve, you notice an exceedingly peculiar thing about Paris: there are eyes everywhere. It is truly unsettling; the city observes you intently, it follows your every move and probably expects you to make a step back or forward while trying to find the best route back to Père-Lachaise or forward to the metro bringing you almost directly to the Louvre. 

Paris is waiting. 

It is full of surprises: this city never hides its drawbacks as its flaws are as significant as its asserts. Arrogantly, la ville demonstrates them to you in attempt to show off and challenge you: what will you do seeing them? Will you embrace him knowing he is different from what you dreamt about staring at the greeting cards and pictures on the Internet? Will you let him be hostile and haughty, will you accept this capricious child wearing a long shirt with cuffs? Will you smile to him and extend your arms or, frightened, glare back at him with disgust in the eyes? What do you expect to encounter besides multiple museums scattered across the city, besides those picturesque parks stuck in between the boulevards and apartment buildings, besides statues, grace and history brought to the modern world throughout time and space?.. 

Paris is a cold and distant one. 

You easily notice that when you walk along le jardin des Tuileries: a nice outing almost immediately morphs into a soirée – a grand ball at Louis XIV’s, whose servants have prepared everything in order to show you the luxurious castle exposing its sumptuous decorations. This is just the outside – scrutinize the palace and chalk up how unreal this embodiment of real history seems to be. Entering the Louvre, you cannot quite grasp the dimensions: you realize that you are in the middle of Paris, standing on the ground where Madame de Montespan weaved her plots, where Monsieur danced and laughed, where Marquise de Sévigné wrote her novel. Is this the Louvre? Is this the place I saw in the pictures in books? Is this the set of ballrooms, embellished and adorned by portraits, flowers, statues and garlands visible in the reflection of the gold and silver? Is this where colors mixed in a dance creating a peculiar amalgamation of fun, temptation and game?.. A pale pink skirt trimmed with white laces tickles an azure dress, and they both slide across the tortoise floor of the Louvre… 

This Paris belongs to the King. This Paris is exterior. 

I had the opportunity to see the other side of him. I saw the evening at Saint-Martin with joyful drinking youths; I saw this uncouth, harsh, vulpine and insidious Montmartre with the narrow eyes and a scar across its face; I saw the staid, demure Père-Lachaise and peaceful, dignified Picpus; I saw life at Republique, I saw fun at Lourmel… Oh, how suspicious was I perusing you, ignoring your filthy streets and smiling wide towards the flag drowning in the sunlight! Oh, how suspicious was I observing your avenues and churches piercing the sky above! Oh, how suspiciously I looked around getting lost in signs, in the sounds of art. I fell in love with you not for the musée d’Orsay, Marquis de Lafayette, La Joconde or Venus de Milo; I fell in love with you for the road across rue de Planchat; I fell in love with you for Bir-Hakeim where the metro came up to the surface to brag about the iron Madame; I fell in love with you for the variety of people, for La Javelle, for… staying yourself. I encountered wary Gobseck breathing from beneath Balzac’s quill; I encountered a whimsical little dauphin demanding attention… 

And then you warmed up. And then you embraced me. And then you refused to let me go.


End file.
